Work Text:
It's a nice warm day in Anakt garden at a cool seventeen degrees with a small breeze.
As is the same for every recess, Till can be found sat under one of the many fake trees in the garden with a pencil and paper in hand.
Except this time, in substitute for his usual blank drawing pad is a lined singular lined sheet instead.
After weeks of waiting he's finally got some peace and quiet. He can thank Ivan's stupid popularity for that since he's been doing more promotional shit lately.
Since Ivan's stupid owner is taking up all his time Till can finally go back to lyrical work without Ivan bugging him.
That that with his stupid, "Why is the third verse like this?" Or, "How come the melody is like that?"
Just a never ending stream of passive aggressive criticism and Till can only take so much.
That's why as soon as he got a moment of peace he pulled out the new song he's been working on for the past weeks.
Of course behind the aliens backs.
He wouldn't dare let them take his work that holds so much of his inner feelings and put it out for even more disgusting aliens to hear.
Just the though of it makes his fists clench and bile rise in his throat.
"That a new song?"
Till leaps three feet in the air at the sudden voice. He doesn't even have to look up to tell who it is but Till loves to torture himself so he does anyways.
"Hi, Tilly" Ivan beams, looking down at him.
Of course Ivan's here, because fuck Till and his happiness he guesses.
Till clutches the paper to his chest like his life depends on it; glaring at Ivan who stares back innocently.
Till holds his gaze for as long as he can, a makeshift staring contest going on as Till fights for dominance in Ivan's ever mentally challenging presence.
As always, Till gives in first because he has a weak will and Ivan's eyes are insanely deep and almost hypnotic.
It makes his heart pick up pace from fear and in all honesty he can't handle any more stress in his life.
The aliens have already started making weird comments about putting him on calming medication because of his temper; he doesn't need to give them another reason.
"What are you even doing here? Don't you have some important golden boy things to be doing." He snarks, not bitterly because he obviously doesn't care.
Duh.
Ivan hums in agreeance, ignoring Till's hostile tone. "I did, but it is all wrapped up for the night. You have still yet to tell me if that is a new song or not?"
Till sighs figuring there's nothing too terrible that can come from telling Ivan
"It is, so what?"
"Well you have been staring at the same line for the past thirty minutes with that look you have when you are constipated. I assumed either you got your washroom breaks revoked again or you were having writing troubles." Ivan shrugs.
He hates that Ivan is right about both things.
Though he isn't constipated like that idiot says, he did have his washroom breaks taken away since he kept trying to escape to his room.
He's also been having trouble with his song for the past few weeks which is another reason he hasn't writing.
Normally he wouldn't have any problem blaming all his issues on Ivan, but he honestly can't this time.
Not when even during bed time he's begun actually sleeping instead of writing new lyrics.
Just looking at his new song makes his stomach twist weirdly.
Usually he can just think of Mizi for a little and the words come pouring out onto the page, but for some reason it hasn't been working for this song.
Every lyric he writes just doesn't match up with perfect Mizi and he doesn't understand why.
It's supposed to be a love song after all, so why doesn't Mizi come to mind when he's writing.
Till finds his hands running through his hair as he lets out a frustrated groan.
"I just feel like I'm putting so much thought into this, yet I can't even think of a name for it." Till sighs, ignoring the diss from Ivan.
"Let me have a look." Ivan suggests, though he's already snatched away the paper and is looking it over.
Someone should take whatever fucked up complex he has out back and shoot it. And preferably Ivan too while they're at it.
"Hmmm" Ivan seems to contemplate Till's writing like he's reading one of his stupid old books. "You are correct, it seems it does not have a title."
Wow. What absolutely inspiring information.
This might just fend off Till's writing block permanently.
NOT.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
Certainly not the best song writer in ANAKT because that title is singlehandedly taken by Till.
"Whatever! Just give me my song back! I'm scared your annoyingness will rub off on it and ruin my song!" Till accuses, jumping up to reach for the paper but Ivan holds it just above his head. The idiot's stupid recent growth spurt leaves Till to humiliate himself by trying to jump to get it.
Ivan tilts his head while leisurely holding the page like he's done this before. Because he has. Because he's the worst.
"Fine, I'll give it back." Ivan says graciously like he's doing Till a favour by giving him back his own song sheet. "But on one condition."
Till groans and contemplates hitting his head against the tree he was previously resting against.
Ultimately he decides against it; he still vividly remembers Mizi doing the exact same thing when Sua was upset with her.
He also vividly remembers how they dragged her away and kept her locked in a padded kennel for weeks.
It's just always a condition with this guy. It wouldn't be terrible if it wasn't for how weird his terms are.
Like when Ivan stole his pencil and when Till asked for it back he forced him to do a handstand until his face went red.
Or when Ivan stole his recorder for the seventh time and the only way he'd give it back was if he let Ivan touch his belly button.
And so on and so forth whenever he deemed Till is too happy. Because he's a kleptomaniac and was made in some factory with the sole purpose being to terrorize Till.
"Fine. What do you want me to do this time? Want me to try and do a backflip again and break my neck." Till snarls.
Ivan seems to think it over for a moment before shaking his head with a giggle. "No, as amusing as that would be to witness again, I have a different wish."
"Well spit it out dickhead, I need to get back to writing." Till nags, worry creeping in as he grows increasingly aware that his free time is coming to an end and he'll have to go to correction classes.
"Just tell me one thing. What does "Mi Vida Loca" mean?" Ivan asks in a genuinely curious tone.
Does he not..?
No way—it could be!
Ivan's Mr. Know-it-all. It goes against all principles of nature if this is what Till thinks it is!
"Did you just ask what "Mi Vida Loca" means?" Till asks carefully, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and Till can not miss it.
"Yes, that is what I asked. I'm happy to know that your hearing has not deteriorated." He mocks in a dry tone.
Till let's the insult completely roll off him as a sense of cruel excitement builds in his little body.
"So..." Till begins trying to seem as cool and calm as possible.
He is not cool, nor calm right now.
"You really don't know?"
"That is why I'm asking."
Holy shit.
Till blinks a few times before looking up at the sky.
Nope, still blue. Looking down the grass between his toes remains green.
What's that saying Ivan always says?
"When fat cats fly?" or something.
Till squints at the sky again and searches for any feline animals and sees none.
Looking slightly lower to make eye contact with Ivan's confused face Till feels a profound need to laugh at him.
"But—it's just Spanish?" Till falters momentarily. Reminding Ivan of the language has probably tipped off the meaning of the phrase to him.
Now Till's going to have to break his neck doing a backflip and it's going to be his own fault.
Great ANAKT, Ivan really is right. He is an idiot.
Before Till can spiral too far into a hole of self-doubt Ivan feels the need to speak up again.
"Well yes, I am aware." He drawls, his stare blank and questioning.
"Just because I am aware of the language does not automatically mean I understand the entire language." Ivan lectures him thoroughly, blabbing on about, "not making assumptions " or whatever the fuck.
Unluckily for Ivan, the only words bouncing around Till's head are he doesn't understand Spanish.
Okay, a few words were changed and taken out—but the point still stands!
"Así que realmente no sabes español?" Till blurts out.
{So you really don't know Spanish?}
Till gives it time to see if the words click in Ivan's head.
To see if this is all some elaborate scheme and that he actually does know Spanish.
He scrutinizes Ivan's face for even a speck of recognition but all that remains is that trained calmness.
"¿De verdad no me entiendes?" Till asks slowly with wide eyes. It's taking everything in him to not burst out laughing but he has to clarify first.
{You really don’t understand me?}
"Pardon?"
"No me entiendes!" Till mocks, finally able to laugh at him.
{You don't understand me!}
Till has been waiting for the day he would know something Ivan doesn't, and finally it's here!
"Eso es bastante vergonzoso; ¿no te da vergüenza?" Till jeers, running circles around Ivan. "Y pensar que eres el estudiante estrella cuando ni siquiera conoces este idioma!"
{That's pretty embarrassing; aren't you embarrassed?}
{And to think you're the star student when you don't even know this language!}
"Stop spinning Till, you might fall." Ivan warns with a tight smile making Till giggle more.
"Eh, ¿por qué no dices eso en español!" Till mocks again but does stop running circles around him.
{Hey, why don't you say that in Spanish?}
"You are enjoying this far too much." Ivan quips, flicking Till on the forehead.
Till would argue that he isn't enjoying this enough. This will probably be his only opportunity in life to get one over on Ivan!
To finally rub it in his face that he knows something Ivan doesn't! To get back at the dickhead for all the times he flexed his "superior intelligence" and stuff!
Till sighs and allows himself to glance over at Ivan who's staring at him already.
Normally his gaze would freak Till out but it has less of an effect when he's pouting and his pupils are blown out to the size of saucers.
"Te ves lindo cuando estás confundido." Till admits earnestly, feeling heat rush up to his face.
{You look cute when you're confused.}
Ivan stares at Till blankly, and for a moment Till wonders if maybe he understood him.
Maybe this was all just a giant prank and he was waiting for Till to say something embarrassing like that.
But just as quickly as the panicked feeling began choking him, it subsided with Ivan's confused head tilt.
"Pardon?"
"Of course you don't understand." Till huffs with relief. Ivan would have never let Till live that down if he understood him.
"Huh, what did you say just now?" Ivan begs, his hands grappling onto Till's shoulders to shake him, the lyrical sheet long since tossed aside.
"Not telling!" He giggles as he let's his head bob back and forth from the force.
Suddenly a light goes off in Till's brain.
The best idea of his life.
If Ivan doesn't understand Spanish, then he can just make the name of his song in Spanish!
Then Ivan has no way of correcting or making fun of him for it since he's too stupid to even understand!
Huh maybe Ivan is useful for song writing, Till giggles more to himself at the thought.
"Stop laughing and tell me what you said." Ivan whines, shaking Till back and forth.
Suddenly with Ivan mind writing this song seems just a little bit easier.